


Defeating Sunrise

by eldritchwriter



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII (Video Game 1997), Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020), Final Fantasy VII: Advent Children
Genre: Cloud Strife Needs a Hug, Denzel is So Done With Them Both, Found Family, Grown-Up Cloud, Hero Worship, M/M, Pining, Sephiroth is Oblivious, Slow Burn, Time Travel Fix-It
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:48:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27498940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eldritchwriter/pseuds/eldritchwriter
Summary: Cloud isn't good at this whole 'parenting' gig, and even when he tries, it doesn't seem to be doing him any good. He's ready to give up, when he is inexplicably pulled into the past with his young protege in tow. The last thing Cloud expects is to be dropped straight into the Wutai War and in front of a Sephiroth who is younger and still in charge of his own mind.As Cloud spirals headlong into his trauma-filled past, trying to make sense of his memories and discern truth from his own fictions, long-buried feelings for Sephiroth begin to emerge. With Denzel's help, he can surely change the future, but the biggest question is what that future should look like at all.
Relationships: Reno/Rufus Shinra, Sephiroth/Cloud Strife, Zack Fair/Aerith Gainsborough
Comments: 35
Kudos: 194





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Well, I wanted to write something since the Remake, and so here is my take on the time travel fix it fic. It'll be long and a slow-burn but I promise it'll be worth it. I've got some good ideas for this one. It's relatively free of Remake related spoilers, and more embedded in the Compilation unless I need some Whisper hand-waving in the future, but we'll see. I'll be dipping into the Compilation for world-building and events, but it is alternate universe and nothing is set to follow the canon path.
> 
> This starts 3 years after what would have been the events of Dirge of Cerberus, making Denzel 13 years old, and Cloud 27 years old when the time travel shenanigans happen.
> 
> The story will be eventual Sephiroth/Cloud, but we're going to be taking the long way there so be ready for some pining, some hero worship, some longing stares, before we get to the good stuff.

“It’s not so easy. We’re all traumatised by what we went through. Cloud most of all.”

Cloud rested his head back against the door to the rebuilt Seventh Heaven and let out a soft sigh. He hadn’t meant to intrude on the conversation between Tifa and Barret, but now it was inevitable. He guessed he was lucky that he hadn’t just walked in and that his enhanced hearing had picked up the urgent tone of Barret’s voice before he’d opened the door.

At least this way he could steel himself for whatever Barret was going to ask him to do.

“Well, we all got heaps of trauma. Enough to keep the shrinks goin’ for decades. But Cloud’s tough. He’ll do it, no problem.”

 _Do what?_ Cloud wondered. _What more could you possibly have to ask of me?_

“When he says no, I don’t want you to push it,” Tifa’s reply was exasperated sounding, and Cloud detected the sound of a bar towel hitting the floor. “I mean it, Barret, I know that Cloud needs… reminding sometimes that people need him to do things, but I don’t want you pestering him. This isn’t something he’s duty-bound to do.”

“I wasn’ planning on it,” Barret said, a creak of a bar stool. “It’s just the easiest way, is all.”

“Well, have a Plan B ready.” The sound of glasses being thrown into a dishwasher, one of the newest additions to Seventh Heaven, now that there was running water into the place.

Cloud had plumbed it in himself, after several assurances from Reeve that the water was definitely clean and not contaminated. Cloud had made him drink it straight from the tap when it was plugged in just to prove the point.

“Roger that. Say, how’s Denzel been doin’ in school? Marlene’s been tellin’ me all kinds of stories- “The conversation turned to the children and Cloud stopped listening. Whispered conversations about him rather than with him were the norm, and he’d long grown used to people acting in his best interest without consulting him. Sometimes he was glad that Tifa acted as a buffer between him and the ridiculous requests of his onetime comrades, other times it frustrated him.

Today, he was just tired.

He pushed away from the wall, steeling himself to head inside, to listen to whatever Barret’s request was and to grit his teeth and give his answer whatever way it went, but then…

_Why?_

Why indeed. Why did he have to? He had his own plans for the rest of the week. Nothing urgent, certainly, but he had a few delivery jobs, a run out to the Chocobo Farm… Hell, it was Parent-Teacher Meetings this week and he’d _promised_ Denzel that he’d make it to this one despite not feeling remotely like an appropriate paternal figure.

If he stayed away, eventually Barret would leave. Tifa had made it clear _she_ would not bring up whatever this was. He didn’t have to deal with it now unless he wanted to, and quite frankly, he didn’t want to.

He stepped off the porch and walked towards the Fenrir, kicking his leg over it. It showed how lost Tifa and Barret had been in their conversation that they hadn’t heard the thing roaring up next to the bar in the first place.

No, he wasn’t going to deal with this now. He’d pick it up later, much later.

He disabled the kickstand and revved the engine.

Cloud was not in the mood to deal with this today.

* * *

It somewhat surprised Denzel to see Cloud outside his school. Some older boys had gathered around Cloud’s bike, trying to strike up a conversation with him. Cloud remained detached though, his arms folded on his chest and his eyes showing that he was completely lost in thought.

Not so unusual, and it probably made him look cool to the kids who had flocked around him, but Denzel knew better. He knew that, no matter how cool Cloud looked with the all-black motorcycle and the enormous sword strapped to his back, that his unwilling mentor was just a shy space cadet.

“Er, hi?” Denzel leaned around the front of the bike to put his face in front of Cloud’s and snap him from his reverie.

Cloud blinked slowly, then the corners of his mouth tilted up a bit. “Hey. Thought I’d give you a ride back from school today.”

Denzel wondered what had spurred that decision, but he knew he wouldn’t get an actual response from Cloud about it. Cloud and Tifa had been involved in his life for years now. He was in his teens, but they had nowhere near what could be called a father-son relationship. Cloud was too distant, his reasoning for his actions too coloured by his own past, to be much use to Denzel in learning to navigate the world.

But still it was useful, especially when wanting to seem cool in front of some upperclassman.

“Sure. Can I shove my backpack in the storage?” Denzel asked, like it was an everyday occurrence for Cloud to let him ride on the back of the Fenrir.

Cloud got off the bike, showing an impressive show of strength by just casually holding it upright with a one-handed loose grip while the other opened the under-seat storage to let Denzel dump his bag in. The other kids were goggle-eyed at Cloud, and that made Denzel smile a bit.

Cloud shoved a helmet and goggles into his hands, causing Denzel to pout. It was _less_ cool to wear this thing. Cloud pulled on his own goggles though, without a dorky helmet. Denzel knew that Cloud probably couldn’t be killed by coming off the bike at speed like he could, and if it meant that Cloud might rev the engine harder it was worth looking stupid for.

Helmet in place, Denzel clambered onto the back of the bike. Cloud leaned forward, then looked over his shoulder, waiting for Denzel to adjust himself.

“Hang on,” was all Cloud said, before the engine roared and Cloud was already kicking the bike into a higher gear.

Denzel scrambled to wrap his arms tightly around Cloud’s waist before he fell off the back and found out precisely how effective his helmet would be. Cloud weaved the bike through traffic and crowds and back alleys that definitely shouldn’t have been driven down.

In anyone else’s hands, this would have been suicide, but though it was exhilarating, Denzel felt safe. For all Cloud’s faults and sometimes dumb decisions, he never purposefully put anyone in danger. The incredible strength to manoeuvre the bike through tight gaps, and the lightning-fast reflexes he had meant that it was rather more like riding on a rollercoaster. The safe journey to their destination was all but pre-determined, so Denzel could just enjoy the ride there.

Pulling up outside Seventh Heaven wasn’t exactly welcome, but his arms were sore from holding on. Cloud kicked down the stand and waited for Denzel to dismount before making sure that he had his bag and that the helmet and goggles were stored appropriately.

Cloud reached out, self-consciously ruffling Denzel’s hair in a way that was a shadow of paternal instinct that just made both of them feel awkward.

“Go say hi to Tifa,” Cloud said, grabbing a box from inside the storage attached to the bike.

“You mean, go check the coast is clear, don’t you?” Denzel asked, putting his hands in his pockets. “Not that I’m not grateful for the ride, but you only come pick me up when you want a buffer between you and whoever’s in there.”

Cloud’s shoulders hunched. “That’s not- “

“It’s fine,” Denzel said, shrugging. “But at least be honest about it, at least to yourself if not to me.”

He didn’t wait for Cloud to turn round, instead announcing his entry to the bar and greeting Tifa brightly. No one else was here, so maybe Cloud was just trying to avoid being alone with Tifa. It wouldn’t be the first time for that either.

When Cloud entered, he didn’t meet Denzel’s eyes, but there didn’t seem to be a tension between him and Tifa, so Denzel let it go. Whatever this was about, he’d find out in the end anyway, when the row inevitably started and Cloud roared off on his motorcycle at 3am to Ancient’s knew where.

“Denzel!” Denzel turned to see Marlene running from behind the bar, pink bow bouncing in her hair. “Papa says I can stay for dinner tonight! Let’s do our homework together?”

Cloud groaned. “Is Barret still-“

“’Sup. We need to talk.”

* * *

Returning to Nibelheim, to _this_ Nibelheim, left Cloud with an itching soul. The people here, the few that had returned, were not originally from the town. They didn’t know the legends of the local mountains, or the best way to trap Nibel Wolves, or which paths to avoid so they didn’t run into dragons.

Most of them didn’t even know that Nibelheim had once burnt to the ground. All they knew was that there was a town here, rebuilt and mostly empty, and that the WRO was interested in generating hydropower from the waterfalls in the mountains. That was enough for them.

As usual, it was capitalism that was the driving force of Nibelheim’s destiny, and a new flow of money brought a new flow of residents and washed away the blood and soot and smoke. Even the acrid tinge of mako in the air had long since dissipated except in Cloud’s mind.

“I didn’ think you’d come, bein’ honest,” Barret said, rubbing the back of his neck.

Cloud had fully intended not to, but there were some things that he still felt he couldn’t say no to. This was one of them. Nibelheim was a wound on his soul that wouldn’t heal and that he couldn’t stop picking at.

“Right, not feelin’ talkative, got it,” Barret scratched the back of his neck with the barrel of his gun-arm, looking sheepish. “I’ll be headin’ out into the mountains a bit, gotta check up on the generator to report back, y’know? But you’ll be alright here, right?”

“I’ll be fine,” Cloud waved him off. “But you can’t take longer than a few hours. I have to get back.”

“Yeah. School shit. I remember. I won’t make you late to play daddy, promise.”

Cloud didn’t want to question Barret’s parenting skills, but he thought out of all his former-comrades, the one was most likely to put work above ‘school shit’ was probably Barret. For all his bluster and dedication to Marlene, he had a somewhat lax attitude towards the formal things that it seemed children needed. Like routine. Or regular schooling. Or a parent figure who didn’t disappear on them at the drop of a hat.

Well, Cloud couldn’t really judge any of that. He hadn’t exactly been a model guardian either.

He didn’t bother to answer, instead turning towards the hotel and hoping that there’d be somewhere for him to sit and wait. He had no desire to explore the town the way he had done coming back here five years ago, where he had frantically run from house to house trying to work out why it was different, his own fear and horror reflected at him from Tifa’s eyes.

The hotelkeeper was new, a man with a Rocket Town accent and clothes that were just a little too thin for the mountain temperatures. He greeted Cloud warmly, offered him a room for the night – which Cloud politely declined – and then offered him a warm meal instead.

And so, Cloud spent the afternoon eating Nibel Stew that someone who had never tasted the original had clearly prepared, and waiting for Barret to return. He kept his eyes firmly on the woods outside the window, trying not to give in to the ghosts in his vision of the old townspeople, of the flames, of the shuddering clones.

He didn’t think much of it when it started to rain.

* * *

Cloud didn’t expect Denzel to actually throw something at him in frustration. It was only a towel from the bar, soaked in beer, but it still hit him in the face with a soft whump all the same. Cloud let it slide to the floor, just as he’d let it hit him. He deserved this.

“I _waited for you for hours!”_ Denzel yelled.

Tifa reached out hesitantly for Denzel’s shoulder but he caught the movement out of the corner of his eye and jerked away from her.

“Denzel, I’m sorry. The dam that Barret was working next to burst and-“

“I don’t care! You should never have gone! You could have gone next week! Or he could have found someone else to go with him!” Denzel shouted, his fists balled by his sides. “No one would have died if you’d waited!”

Well, that was debatable, as it wasn’t like Cloud or Barret’s presence had set of the chain of events that caused the dam failure. In fact, their being there had saved many lives. But none of that was going to make an angry thirteen year old like him any more, Cloud was sure of it. Long gone were the days where Denzel was impressed by heroic tales from far-off places. No, now he wanted something more concrete from Cloud, stability and dependency, both things that Cloud had never been in the best situation to provide.

“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Cloud offered, putting up his hands in a placating gesture. “I should have said no. I shouldn’t have let you down.”

It seemed like the wind went out of Denzel’s sails at that but instead of doing what he usually did and apologising too, it seemed that Denzel truly had settled into his teenage years because he stormed out of the front door of Seventh Heaven instead, letting it bang behind him.

“It’s late, you should go after him,” Tifa said after a few moments silence.

Cloud shook his head. “Better if it’s you. He doesn’t like me much right now.”

“Which is why, it’s got to be you.” Tifa began to push at Cloud’s shoulder, forcing him towards the door. “You might not be forgiven, Cloud, but you have to sort this one out yourself. Family don’t go to bed on fights.”

“We have plenty of times,” he pointed out. “You’re always yelling at me late at night after the patrons have gone.”

“Yes, well, I’m not thirteen years old and I didn’t just wait for you for hours,” Tifa countered, pushing Cloud towards the door again. “Just sort things out, Cloud. And next time… just don’t be late.”

Cloud reluctantly stepped out of the door and onto the porch. Denzel hadn’t gone far. He had a rock in his hand and was standing next to the Fenrir, but Cloud couldn’t see any scratches on it. Clearly Denzel had entertained the thought of scratching it, but thought better of it.

Good, because Cloud would have hated to add _that_ to the fight as well.

“We’re going for a ride again,” Cloud said, walking past Denzel and getting on the bike without looking at him. “Hop on.”

“No,” Denzeil said stubbornly.

Cloud waited as seconds rolled by to become a minute.

He felt hands on his shoulders as Denzel climbed on and waited until the boy was settled before he took off.

He hadn’t really known where he was going until he ended up on the cliff edge. He’d brought Denzel here once before, to show him the place where a hero had died. It seemed fitting that they were here now, in the place where the hero that Cloud had tried to emulate before all else was memorialised, to have this conversation with a child who emulated _him_.

Cloud got off the bike and went to sit on the edge of the cliff, looking over at the lights of Edge and the ruins of Midgar. There was still so much rebuilding to do.

“I’m only human,” Cloud said finally, mostly to the night, but knowing that Denzel was still awkwardly perched on the bike and no doubt watching him. “If there’s one thing I learned, through all of it, it’s that I’m only a human with faults and flaws.”

“Yeah, well, one of them is being really shitty about remembering to show up for things.”

Cloud couldn’t deny that. “Memory is not my strongpoint, agreed.”

“You’re just never around, even when you promise you’re going to be.”

Again, not something Cloud could deny. How many birthdays and holidays had he missed? Sometimes on purpose, sometimes because he simply forgot about them? His thoughts were always scrambled, stuck in a past he fuzzily remembered and one that he had constructed for himself from pure trauma.

None of those were things that a teenager would understand though, even one like Denzel. Cloud had no intention of burdening him with the knowledge of it either.

“I won’t promise you I’ll always be around,” Cloud conceded, and he heard Denzel getting off the bike. “But you know, there are some things that you get to do that others don’t. You’ve never seen me let Marlene anywhere near the bike.”

“Only because Barret would riddle you with bullets.”

It seemed Denzel wasn’t going to join him, so Cloud stood up, giving up on the male bonding moment over the edge of the cliff with a sight.

“I know it doesn’t mean much, but I am doing my best. This… this whole series of events is just…” Cloud struggled to find the words. “Every event in my life has taken the worst possible turn. Even when I try, I still mess up. It seems inevitable at this point, and though I’m going to try my best, I know that I’ll still disappoint you.”

Stood before Zack's grave, with Denzel's quiet censure worrying between his shoulder blades, Cloud couldn't remember a time when he'd last felt good about himself. He hadn't asked for this hero-worship, or to be the guardian of a teenager who was turning out to be just as taciturn and unruly as Cloud had been at that age. He hadn't asked for any of this, and duty could only take him so far down a path before he had to put some effort in.

"If you truly think this is the worst timeline, the worst it might get, then do you really think it's okay to throw in the towel?" Denzel asked, eyes hot and accusing. "Is it really okay to just give up and not even try for a better one?"

"A better timeline?" Cloud rubbed his temples. "Sure. We'll just magic one into existence for everyone, shall we?"

“Now who’s acting like a kid?” Denzel challenged him.

Cloud turned now, ready to just apologise again, but what he saw chilled his blood. A shrouded figure with long, reaching fingers.

“Denzel! Come here!”

But it was too late, the creature had snatched Denzel, dragging him into a dark portal.

Cloud’s heart felt like it was going to beat out of his chest. He lunged after the creature, into the dark and cold unknown. It lasted only a fraction of a second where he felt like he was floating in the Lifestream once more, before his boots hit ground at a different level than he’d been expecting and he tripped.

He landed on something soft, and was relieved to take in a surprised expression under a mess of red-hair.

“Where’s the monster?” Cloud asked, looking around them.

Their environment was completely different. From the vegetation, Cloud guessed they were somewhere near Wutai, which was not only impossible, but was also deeply worrying. How had they got so far from home?

“Cloud! Behind you!”

Cloud didn't think, he reacted, immediately bringing First Tsurugi up to parry the blow he vaguely caught from the corner of his eye that would rend him and Denzel in two. He didn't expect for the katana to spiral through the air, landing six feet away, embedded in the dirt with the moonlight reflecting off its blade.

Masamune.

_No._

Sephiroth was frozen, hand empty. Green eyes, glowing and surprised, fixed on Cloud and for the first time Cloud recognised that this Sephiroth was not the same Sephiroth he had fought last. He was younger, his features still a little softened by adolescence. The Sephiroth that Cloud had seen in the papers fifteen years ago. The Sephiroth that he had idolised, left home for, joined Shinra for.

"You have got to be fu-" He remembered Denzel was still behind him. "'Effin' kidding me."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Cloud is surprised by Sephiroth, and Sephiroth is surprised by Cloud.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, so many people responded to the first chapter! Thank you all for choosing to read along!

Even unarmed, Sephiroth was dangerous. Cloud tightened his hand on First Tsurugi, moving so he was completely covering Denzel from any potential attack.

“Why are you here?” Cloud hissed. “How are you here? I killed you.”

Sephiroth’s head tilted to one side, and he looked Cloud up and down. Cloud didn’t miss the way Sephiroth’s eyes next went to Masamune, then to Denzel, and back to him. It would have been too fast for someone else to catch, but not for SOLDIER enhanced eyesight.

“Don’t even think about it,” Cloud said. “You’ll be dead before your hand reaches the hilt.”

A quirk upwards at the corner of Sephiroth’s lips was the only warning before he lunged for the blade. Cloud didn’t think before reacting, swinging his sword on its blunt edge straight into Sephiroth’s stomach. Sephiroth’s eyes widened as he doubled over, the breath leaving his lungs as he staggered backwards.

Cloud raised his sword in a ready position again, eyes not leaving Sephiroth at all.

Then Sephiroth smirked.

“You said I’d be dead. Use the sharp side of the blade for that.”

Sephiroth’s voice still had that deep, liquidy slide to it that squirmed its way into Cloud’s head and wouldn’t let go. But Cloud also detected a hint of breathlessness to it, one that he hadn’t heard from Sephiroth before whenever they’d fought.

Sephiroth did not get winded in battle, no matter how hard the blow.

“Thanks for the tip. I’ll slice you in half next time,” Cloud said, tightening his grip on the sword hilt.

The air was hot and stagnant around them. Cloud, who was dressed for the cool air outside Midgar and not for a more humid environment, felt the sweat drip down the back of his neck. Still, it was a stalemate. Sephiroth did not move, his eyes scanning Cloud like an interesting monster that had popped up out of the undergrowth.

But it was not an unblinking stare like Cloud was used to, glowing and snake-slitted to the point of inhumanity. Framed by silver hair that reflected only moonlight, Sephiroth’s eyes shone with intensity and, most frightening of all, _sanity_.

A PHS started ringing, startling Cloud enough to almost make him leap into an attack. Fortunately, he realised what it was before doing so, and Sephiroth raised his hands with a smirk before reaching slowly into his pocket. Cloud inched forward, not prepared to trust that Sephiroth wasn’t about to pull out a materia and activate it.

But Sephiroth pulled out a PHS with a black leather phone strap and flipped it open, pressing the speakerphone with a small beep. His eyes didn’t leave Cloud’s.

“You’re late.”

The voice that came from the PHS was no-nonsense and deep. In the background there was the sound of gunfire. Cloud didn’t recognise it.

“Apologies. I’ve been held up.”

“You? Held up?” The voice on the other end of the line sounded equal parts amused and concerned.

“Yes. I trust that you’ll be able to get this done without me, Angeal. I was only on this mission for the optics of it anyway,” Sephiroth said. “Call me back when the new troops are in position.”

“Wait, Sephiroth, are you—”

Whatever ‘Angeal’ had been about to say was cut off by Sephiroth snapping the phone shut.

“So, what happened? Did the Wutaians find you and pay you, or did they create you? Their own super-soldier? You have mako eyes, I notice.”

Cloud frowned in confusion.

“Cloud?” Denzel was peering round him at Sephiroth, wearing a scowl of his own. “Why doesn’t he recognise you?”

“Should I?” Sephiroth asked, folding his arms over his chest. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of being introduced before.”

“You know, in all your stories about fighting Sephiroth, you never told me he was so chatty,” Denzel said, and Cloud saw Denzel was looking up at him through his peripheral vision.

None of this made any sense. Sephiroth was acting like he didn’t know Cloud, like he hadn’t repeatedly hunted him down – even risen from the dead – in order to kill him. Something was hugely wrong.

“What are you? Some lost clone? Didn’t get the memo that this is all over and Jenova is dead?” Cloud asked, and to hell with it, he was about to just run Sephiroth through and be done, when Denzel shifted just a little further forward.

The moment Cloud took his eyes off Sephiroth to move Denzel back behind him, Sephiroth _moved_. Cloud barely had time to bring up his sword to deflect the blow aimed at his neck that would have taken his head clean off his shoulders. Masamune now once more in hand, though, Sephiroth flipped backwards, out of range of Cloud’s counterattack, and made no move to attack again.

“I’m wondering if you’re just a lost Wutaian that has fallen into a mako pool and lost his mind,” Sephiroth replied and his eyes slid to Denzel. “Boy, has your friend had any knocks to the head recently? Fallen into any large gullies?”

“Why you—” Cloud began, but Denzel’s hand on his arm made him pause.

“Cloud… I don’t think he remembers anything…” Denzel’s voice dropped low to a whisper, though Cloud knew it would have no effect on Sephiroth’s ability to hear them. “Doesn’t this seem really weird?”

“The only thing that is weird is that some no one in the middle of the Wutaian jungle has disarmed me,” Sephiroth answered, his voice sounding quietly bemused. “And that if Wutai had such a soldier at their disposal, they did not do a very good job in briefing him not to lose his mind in the field.”

Sephiroth lowered Masamune and his body language relaxed. Cloud couldn’t believe it. Sephiroth was… standing down? Since when did the mighty Sephiroth do anything except gear up for battle?

The creak of bamboo and leaves rustling in the wind was all that passed between them for a few moments.

“I am not particularly good at diplomacy, but generally, I find it works best if both sides use their words to communicate instead of just glaring at one another.”

“Usually, diplomacy doesn’t involve gunboats,” Cloud replied without thinking.

Sephiroth threw his head back and laughed. And that was when Cloud knew that whatever had happened to him this evening, this was not any Sephiroth he’d met before. This was not the maniacal laughter of a man who believed he was an alien destined to use a planet as an interstellar spaceship. It was deep laughter and held a tinge of irony to it.

“You clearly don’t know Shinra’s version of diplomacy very well. Although I suppose they use less gunboats, and more, well, _me_ ,” Sephiroth gestured to himself. “Now, we can fight here. I’m sure it’ll be very thrilling for both of us, but I detect that you want to protect the boy behind you more than you want to fight me right now.”

No matter what Cloud answered, it would show weakness to a man who would exploit it. He gritted his teeth. No answer was better than giving a bad one here. Though Sephiroth was right, he needed to get Denzel away from here and the potential battle that could take place.

“I’m growing bored,” Sephiroth inserted into the long silence that had spun between them. “Being able to disarm me and swing around a sword heavy enough to wind me. That’s impressive. You had my attention for that. But I do not have time for this.”

Sephiroth brought Masamune back up again. “Fight or flee.”

The instinct was to fight. The instinct was to throw everything into battle, all else be damned, and for Cloud to hear the ringing clash of steel through the damp night air once more. To just be _done with this already_ and to not have to see Sephiroth’s cat-like eyes studying his every move just as his bastard of a father had done when Cloud was in a mako tube, held against his will, screaming for someone to save him and Aerith, oh god, Aerith — But Denzel was here, and Cloud would not put him in danger.

If Sephiroth was truly back, it wouldn’t take Cloud long to find him again. No doubt burning down some unprotected village or waxing poetic about his mother on top of Shinra tower. The chief priority had to be Denzel’s safety.

Once Cloud decided, he didn’t pause. He scooped up Denzel, throwing him over his shoulder as the boy squawked, and made for the thick undergrowth.

Sephiroth did not move to pursue.

That was weird. Incredibly so.

Only once Cloud was sure that they had put a few miles between Sephiroth and themselves, did Cloud slow to a walk, setting Denzel back on his feet.

“Cloud! What are you doing?” Denzel hissed. “That’s Sephiroth! That’s… that’s the guy who… he…”

It seemed Denzel didn’t know what he wanted to say, but his eyes turned up towards Cloud in angry accusation all the same. “Why didn’t you fight him? I could have taken care of myself!”

Cloud attached his sword to his back, starting to walk in a direction that he hoped was towards Wutai. “There’ll be time to fight him when you’re not with me. Besides, defeating Sephiroth has always been a team effort. It’s never just been me alone.”

Cloud _really_ wasn’t looking forward to telling Tifa that Sephiroth was not only alive, but seemed to walk around quite fine. And it was perhaps a lie to say that the others had always been by his side fighting Sephiroth, but they had been aware of it. They’d been able to manage the casualties and handle the fallout at least.

Cloud wasn’t sure he could go into battle again alone.

“You could have taken him. It’s not like he had all those other guys around him this time,” Denzel pointed out, cheeks turning red with frustration. “No creepers talking about Reunion either.”

That caused Cloud’s step to falter. There had been something unsettling about it all, and now that he thought, it wasn’t just that Sephiroth didn’t recognise him. It was that the Jenova cells within him were completely silent. Inert. The siren call of Reunion hadn’t shot through him once in their interaction.

And Sephiroth had never had to call his remnants to him on a PHS, had he? Not when he was fully formed.

“Cloud?” Denzel was looking up at him, still angry and confused, but also looking slightly worried now.

“It’s nothing. Come on. Let’s see if Yuffie is about. She’ll want to know if Sephiroth’s on her doorstep.”

He began to walk through the undergrowth more purposefully. Denzel followed behind, and if Cloud threw a few worried glances behind them to check for pursuit, he didn’t comment on it.

* * *

Arrival in Wutai was not what Cloud thought it would be. The proud nation had been rebuilt under Yuffie’s leadership, well, as much as possible given the rapid conversion to renewable energy had allowed. But gone were the windmills atop the mountains, and there was the scent of smoke in the air.

It was only once they were clear of the forests and out of the valleys into an open plain that Cloud saw what he had feared. The plains around Wutai were crawling with military units, armed to the teeth.

Shinra troops.

And that wasn’t possible.

He pulled Denzel back behind a large boulder, his heart hammering in his chest. There was no way that any Shinra faction had formed without him knowing about it. Not unless Rufus Shinra had been playing some duplicitous game under all their noses. Which wasn’t the most unlikely thing to have happened, but Cloud trusted Reeve to have caught it before it came to something like this.

“Why is there an army here?” Denzel asked, crawling forward. “I thought Wutai had its independence. Why are they under siege?”

Cloud caught the back of his shirt and dragged him back. What was it with this boy and trying to get the lead into danger?

“Those are Shinra troops,” Cloud said, his tongue heavy in his mouth. He was trying his best not to think about the implications, his mind racing as he tried to put together the disparate elements of what had occurred since he’d followed Denzel through that portal.

“But Shinra doesn’t have a military anymore,” Denzel shrugged Cloud’s grip off his shirt, adjusting it and looking to Cloud like he might have all the answers.

“No, they don’t,” Cloud agreed.

Damnit, he wasn’t a strategist. Working out geo-politics was more a Vincent and Reeve thing. Hell, even Barret had more experience with just… seeing the big picture of things. He was simple. Point him at Sephiroth, wind him up, let him go.

Although he hadn’t even done that tonight.

Wait.

A younger Sephiroth, one that he had somehow been able to best and who called people on phones.

A war in Wutai.

Shinra troops on the ground like they owned it, blazoning the Shinra Electric Power Company emblem without shame.

There could be no way that this could be true, and yet…

“Stay close to me and don’t speak. Not a word,” Cloud said, finally turning to Denzel.

It was the first time he’d looked at him properly since they’d fallen through the portal, and he could see that the boy was scared. His blue eyes were wide, the corners of his mouth turned down, and his skin pale in the moonlight. Cloud could hear his breathing as he tried to regulate it.

“What are we going to do?” Denzel asked.

Cloud leaned around the boulder, watching a troop of Shinra soldiers running towards a helicopter in regimented order.

“We’re going to get back to Midgar.”

“Don’t you mean Edge?”

Cloud shook his head. “No… No, I don’t think I do.”

* * *

Sephiroth surveyed the gathered troops with a bored expression. The area around Wutai itself was not particularly interesting to him. It was heavily landmined, and those inside the city couldn’t really escape it. The battle in this area was mostly one of the mind, a stalemate between two superpowers on who would break first.

The guerrilla battles that happened all over the Western Continent were more his speed, and far more intellectually thrilling than this one. Still, he had been told to be here as the fresh wave of new cannon fodder joined the front lines. Something about being inspirational and that a SOLDIER First Class should do what they could to maintain morale.

Still, this was a job that was far more up Angeal’s alley than Sephiroth’s. In fact, the man had spent more time among the new recruits than he had with his officers. Which left Sephiroth feeling somewhat like he was babysitting the Third Class who Angeal had left behind.

No, not babysitting. Pet-sitting. Zack Fair resembled an over-excited puppy more than he resembled a child. With a children, Sephiroth always found that there was an air of petulance that Zack lacked. He was far too affable.

“Do you think we’ll take the city soon? Like, it’s been years. I dunno how they’re holding out so long,” Zack said, pausing in his squats to instead look at Sephiroth expectantly.

Sephiroth wondered if it was appropriate to remind him that one usually obeyed protocols and called a commanding officer ‘sir’ but he let it slide. He had more on his mind than the besieged Wutai, or Zack’s excitable lack of respect.

“Strength of will,” Sephiroth said, thinking of how his mysterious assailant’s eyes had shone through the darkness earlier that night. They had shown a strength of will, and a fear that bordered on hatred.

If Wutai had synthesised mako into their own soldiers, then this war might be about to get interesting.

“Oh, right,” Zack said, as though Sephiroth’s answer had been particularly illuminating. “Honour and all that.”

“You have a mentor who understands the Wutaian mindset quite explicitly,” Sephiroth commented. “ _Honour and all that_.”

Zack gave him a blinding grin, and opened his mouth to say more, when a barrage of gunfire broke out from the south towards the mountains. He gave Sephiroth a sharp look, and Sephiroth had barely inclined his head before Zack had taken off in the gunfire's direction.

_Too eager for battle, too eager to prove himself. Angeal has his hands full teaching that one caution._

Sephiroth walked to the mobile unit that had been turned into his headquarters for the operation. He wasn’t concerned about any enemies attacking them from the rear. It was a suicide mission considering how well-armed Shinra was against an unfortified position. Zack would be more than fine handling it.

Instead, he stepped into the boxy trailer and closed the door behind him. It was a simple space. A cot to rest on, for when Sephiroth slept, which was rarely more than a few hours when he was on the front lines. A screen, on which to project battle plans but which currently was just playing a slideshow screensaver of Shinra’s space program. A small cubicle bathroom, that Sephiroth barely fit into and so often would end up electing to just find a stream when out on mission.

It was not homely, but it was perhaps the place where he had spent most of his time besides Shinra Tower. There were no personal effects. He saw no need for them.

He sat down on the cot and turned over the night in his mind. He should have reported the incident immediately back to Shinra, specifically to Hojo, so that the professor could investigate it if need be. If not Hojo, then at least to the Turks, so they could run intelligence operations into the matter.

But then he would have to admit that, not only had he let the soldier escape, but he had also been disarmed. That didn’t happen to him. He imagined Genesis’ sneer if he were to find out.

Sephiroth’s pride was an incredibly complex thing, but it was also one of the few things that he had that he could claim as his own. Even with a moral code as twisted as his own was compared to the common man, he could justify his actions from his impeccable track record.

If he were no longer the strongest, then that was a slight against not only his standing in this war but also against his identity. Sephiroth, Butcher of Wutai, is what they whispered about him. Though he had not committed all the crimes attributed to his name, there was also a sense of pride in that he was credited almost single-handedly in the success of this campaign.

A loud bang on his door disturbed his reverie.

He got to his feet once more, still turning over the bright-eyed soldier and how fast he’d moved as he opened the door. What he saw caused his grip to tighten so hard on the flimsy plastic doorknob of the trailer that it shattered. The pieces fell to the floor.

Had his thoughts summoned the mysterious man to him? Eyes that glowed with mako, hair that stuck up defying gravity’s command, and a tight, wilful expression that pulled the man’s brows together in what could not be called an intimidating expression but could be called icy determination.

Then Sephiroth saw Zack, who had a sword pointed at the man’s back. And the boy that the man had been guarding struggling in Zack’s grip.

“Sorry to bother you, sir, but I—Ow! Don’t do that!” Zack tried to shake off the redhead boy who had tried to sink his teeth into Zack’s arm.

“Denzel, don’t bite.”

Though the man’s tone was calm, Sephiroth could hear how hard his heart was beating.

He was terrified.

“Someone caught them trying to steal uniforms, probably trying to infiltrate the camp or something. This guy—” Zack gestured with the sword tip to the blond man. “—was slicing through our troops like they were nothing. Must have incapacitated twenty men, but didn’t kill a single one. All just out cold. I don’t think I could have done it.”

“And yet, you beat him?” Sephiroth raised an eyebrow.

It gratified him when Zack shook his head. “Nuh uh. This guy _surrendered.”_

“I don’t want to fight _you.”_

“Huh?”

Sephiroth tilted his head to the side. “It is the second time that we have come across each other tonight, and you attacked our troops. What is your motivation behind such actions? Especially as you seemed to want to keep the boy out of danger before?”

The man seemed unfocused, briefly, and then he shrugged. “Someone must have cast Confu on me. I don’t remember.”

Sephiroth ignored the man and instead turned to the boy. “And you as well? Are you going to say that you had a run in with Mystify materia?”

Even if one of the duo had learned to lie, the other was just a boy, and how he quickly glanced at their mystery soldier’s back showed he hadn’t mastered the skill. “Yeah. Yeah, it was Confu.”

Sephiroth was more likely to believe his mother was a chocobo than that obvious deception, but he was going to get nowhere in this mystery as things were. He stepped aside, allowing Zack to frogmarch their captive and his protégé into the unit.

Things were now somewhat more cramped than before, with Sephiroth and Zack stood blocking the door, and their captives crowded back against the cot.

“You do not recognise this man, Zack?” Sephiroth checked.

The blond’s unique blade, which bore a striking resemblance to Angeal’s Buster Sword, did not escape Zack, who was taking it from him. Sephiroth saw the man tense until Zack rested the blade against the wall.

“No, sir,” Zack said. “He’s not anyone who I trained alongside.”

“So, who are you?” Sephiroth asked, surprised when unease flashed across the man’s face in front of him.

“Cloud,” the man answered and for the first time, his gaze dropped from Sephiroth’s face and instead he was looking at Zack. “My name is Cloud Strife. And we need your help.”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd love to hear your thoughts! Drop me your thoughts down below!


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